


For You, My Dear

by Frothy Mouth (MyDaedricGravemind)



Series: "Froth Me, Baby, One More Time-" [3]
Category: Assassins Creed Syndicate
Genre: Has anyone wondered why there are no lyrics out for "Jokes Jokes Jokes?", Other, Well here they are and I may even attach 'somthing' to this...eh?, more to add to the tags(no doubt), the fall of love implyed, we'll just have to see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDaedricGravemind/pseuds/Frothy%20Mouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who wrote Jokes, jokes, jokes, eh?</p><p>Who else, love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For You, My Dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EatSnowAndDie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EatSnowAndDie/gifts).



 

Maxwell had been wrenching at the folds of his brain for somtime, like how a bitch tugs at burrs in her tail, but for the love of damn! he couldnt find a way to put Jacob's betrayal to proper sense. He growled in his thoat like an injured animal, his right hand pressed to his temple while the other bobbed up and down as if orchistrating his Entr'acte to 'The Devil's blackbird'.  
Louis stood ever patiently by and awaiting instruction as per'norm, while his master paced a smoking track about his grand woven rug, in assumable agony from the days previous beginnings.

"Jacob darling, you have no idea of the pain you have caused me-" He spoke aloud to no one.

The images and last moments flashing threw his memory like photagraphs flipped through one's fingers; still images that moved and breathed with bitter, empty lifelessness.

His face was sour as he realized all his hopes for them-his dreams! of what they could do-and be-now dashed like waves to a sandcastle, leaving nothing but endless nothing and the inside of himself, raw with anger and heartbreak.

Roth crushed his hands together as he contiplated the rage of the Assassin's stab at his back and was reminded of the likes of Rigoletto himself-his terrible tale of misfortune and despair. The color of Roth's mood deepened and in an mad instant brightened;  friends who had become enemies as even now the young Assassin was going to come for him-

Oh it was going to be glorious! His hands clapped together as his perception turned opposite, like the face of a coin, flipped by the hands of destiny, who eagerly watched this dance of destruction and death! O' what a wonderous moment it would be-

Roth's face shadowed again in another thought. It was a duet he had wished for the both of them-Jacob and himself-to then together contend themselves against the mighty Starrick...

Now what? Was the boy saying all for naught and now he-Maxwell Roth- must dance it against, Jacob, his own beloved-his dear partner in all...??

"How could he do this to me? _to my name_? Why now after **all** we had been through- _longed_ to do? _Why_?? **_WHY??!!_**!" The empty amphitheatre eched his words deafeningly to even emptier attendance. There were none to hear the tale they had spun together and as all had been done in the shadows none would know and all who had would soon forget.

He needed a monamorium to their legacy and how he had fallen for him...and would fall to him, but what? how?

Man's greatest translater of thought and emotion; a silent statment to the madness of men, incarnate then struck in black and white-

His _piano_...

Roth stepped up to it and ran his gloved fingers affectionatly down it's the front lid, skipping his fingers till they soundlessly danced upon the key guard. "By music, my love, will I recount our throes and bloody downfall..." He murmered, grinning like the fool he was.

Sliding into the seat with a dramatic air, he through up the key guard and immediatly began to play as if his thoughts and innermost feelings were covered upon sheets for his museing.

Louis sighed and drew up a sheet of paper, his quill readed.

 

Maxwell fixed the image of that rougish devil before his very eyes.

"For you, my dear..."

 

~the tune he struck as his sandpapered baritone rasped and barked-

 

_"Attend the tale of Maxwell Roth,_

_He sought the footlights like a moth,_

_His sense of timing never off, until-_

_He opted to collaberate-with a hooded reprobate,_

_The Blighter and Assassin made a deadly double deal:_

_^Jokes, Jokes, Jokes!_

_Make 'em laugh until they choke- fearly slay 'em in the aisles,_

_Maidens fair and Princes charming-_

_^Thrills, Thrills, Thrills!_

_Dashing feats and bloody spills-and I guarentee, you'll never see, the ending coming-_

_-interlude-_

_The curtain rose, the scene was set,_

_They danced a murderous duet, and much deserving blood was let- up to,_

_The scene where in they disagreed- 'On who should live and who should bleed,'_

_And Maxwell Roth, he then recieved a very bad review._

_^Jokes, Jokes, Jokes!_

_Then theres daggers and theres cloaks- but behind the scenes the leading players differ on the plot,_

_^Laugh, Laugh, Laugh!_

_With a dare these new dead scoff, now eight shows and winter peals an' barbs at his eternal lot,_

_^Jokes, Jokes, Jokes!_

_Make 'em laugh until they choke- fearly slay 'em in the aisles,_

_Maidens fair and Princes charming,_

_^Thrills, Thrills, Thrills!_

_Dashing feats and bloody spills-and I guarentee, you'll never see the ending coming-"_

~the echoes of the sudden and manic end to his piece fade into the empty grand house once more, but Roth is pleased.  
The final scratches of a pen announce the birth of a short masterpiece and Louis brings it to him for his final inspection.

His master only makes one final touch to it...

Sincerly yours,  
_Maxwell Roth~_


End file.
